


red

by genderfluidkilljoy



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Anger, Angry Jet Star, Blood Loss, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Gen, How Do I Tag, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Jet Star is angry so he punches some crates, Nonbinary Jet Star (Danger Days), Nonbinary Party Poison (Danger Days), Punching, Violence, umm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:53:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26056768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genderfluidkilljoy/pseuds/genderfluidkilljoy
Summary: Jet Star is angry at the world so he takes a walk and then punches some things.Trigger warnings: Anger, Violence, Bleeding, Spaceman injures himself but doesn't care so he keeps going, umm, He passes out from blood loss, if there is anything else please let me know so I can list it here!Stay Safely-joshi
Kudos: 6





	red

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a happy fic  
> I wanted to write this because I am also Angry at the World and want to punch something,,,  
> so I took it out on the Space Mom  
> P.S. Jet is Enby and uses He/They pronouns, Party is also enby but uses only They/Them pronouns  
> Also don't mind the title,, I'm in a mood rn

_ Punch _

Jet Star barely gave himself time to recover before he was hitting the empty crates again.

_ Punch, Punch, Punch _

Today had been fucking horrible. Jet Star had woken up in a bad mood which in itself was rare, but wasn’t impossible. He tried to forget about it as he rolled over in his pile of blankets he called a bed.

_ Punch Punch Punch Punch _

He wanted to ride his motorbike and try and clear his head but it had no gas. He asked Kobra to borrow his bike for the day but Ghoul was repairing something with the suspension because he had a race that night and-

_ PunchPunchPunch _

Jet tried to take a walk, he may have stolen Party’s old walkman that he had managed to repair for them and, Hell, he was the one who literally disassembled and reassembled the damn thing. He put in some off-brand cassette Kobra had found of their old music. It had no label but it was also perfectly intact, so when they put it into the BOOM radio and  _ The End _ started playing they had a mini freak out because,  _ Holy fuck this is us. Mikes-Kobra how the fuck did you find this? Who the fuck made this? _

_ PunchPunchPunchPunch _

Taking the walkman and his blaster he set off toward the setting sun to take him wherever his feet would take him. After restarting the cassette about 3 times and a dull ache in his legs started to emerge, Jet Star found an abandoned warehouse. If he were in his right mind he probably would’ve searched to see if it was really abandoned but he just walked right in. There was a stack of crates in the corner. Jet Star planned to sit on one of them, curl up and just let himself calm down, but the closer they got the more the urge to destroy something set in. So, when they were about 2 feet in front of the wooden crate, they kicked it, hard enough to make the 2by4’s it was made of crack.  _ Fuck _ . That felt good. That’s how Jet found themself in this situation. Punching and kicking said crates.

_ PunchKickPunchKickPunch _

Cursing every person and creature and entity he could think of.

PunchKickPunchKickPunCRACK

“Oh Motherfucking-”

The bone in Jet Star’s middle knuckle was sticking out. Blood coming in steady streams through the wound and creating a puddle on the floor.

_ KickKickKickKick _

Jet Star cradled his hand until he got annoyed with the stickiness seeping through his shirt. They really liked that shirt. Damnit.

_ KickKickPunch _

The red splattered like paint across the broken crates. Jet Star caught himself smiling. The pain in his hand was almost non-existent as Jet star continued to punch and kick the crates. Shredding the skin on his knuckle, more red splattered the crates until there was more red than grey.

_ PunchPunchKickKickPunchKickPunchKic-  _ FUCK

Jet fell to the ground when a bone in his foot punctured through his skin. He laughed when he saw the off white bone painted in red. He tried to kick the crate again but stopped when he felt the pain in his shin. He kept laughing. He was crying. But he kept laughing. Even they could tell it sounded hysterical.

Party was going to kill him. Both his foot and hand were broken. Kobra was gonna have a ball trying to stitch him back together. Ghoul was going to scold him while he was being stitched up, Party having sent him in because they can’t stand the sight of a needle. He was going to be patched up and scolded and that would be the end. He would go to bed with the help of Party who would feel bad for not being there while he was being patched up. He would laugh and laugh about how stupid he was. Why was he so stupid? Why would he leave and walk for hours without telling anybody. Red spread in what were almost pretty patterns. Anything was prettier than the dirty grey floors of the warehouse. It was almost laughable how much Jet thought his blood was pretty, smeared on the floor. In fact they were laughing. Well it was more like sobbing.

He was gonna die. He was bleeding out and there was no way to stop it. It was so hot. It wasn’t this hot before. Why the fuck was it so hot. Who knew living in the middle of a radiation borne desert would be hot? He needed to get home. He needed to get to his Brothers. He tried to crawl to the crates. He put a hand on the only unbroken one and tried to stand up. He got two steps forward before he was falling onto his chest. He used his good hand to drag himself to the warehouse doors. He could feel his energy fading. Jet could just start to feel the sand of the desert on his finger tips. He curled in on himself, and prayed to any higher entity he could think of that his friends would find him.

The last thing he saw was red smeared on grey before his vision went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm suprised I was able to write a whole thing with basically just Jet Star without talking about their floof


End file.
